


Yoga AU

by lemonsorbae



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M, Yoga
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-29
Updated: 2013-12-29
Packaged: 2018-01-06 15:25:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 884
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1108462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lemonsorbae/pseuds/lemonsorbae
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean had originally started attending yoga to get closer to a one Lisa Braedon. But when a bendy, blue eyed man stands in his way of that goal, Dean can't really find it in himself to be all that disappointed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Yoga AU

 

Gyms were stupid.  That was Dean’s official statement on the matter. If he was going to get exercise he preferred it be out of doors where the wind challenged him and the air smelled fresh and earthy rather than being locked up in a building that smelt of rubber and sweat.

 

But then there was Lisa Braeden, all shiny brunette curls, and deep brown eyes. She was as beautiful as gyms were stupid and when she handed him her card with a wink and a smile Dean suddenly thought maybe gyms weren’t so bad. He could spend one hour in the gym attempting to fold himself in half if it meant a weekend of athletic, bendy sex with a one Lisa Braeden, right?

 

That’s how Dean found himself in a public gym in a Wednesday afternoon yoga class sandwiched inbetween soccer mom’s trying to work off their post pregnancy fat, several hippies in desperate need of haircuts or showers or both, and one lean, scowly asshole with shocking blue eyes who planted himself right in front of Dean obscuring his view of Lisa.

 

The dude’s yoga mat was freaking pink. Pink. (Having a yoga mat was a hit to Dean’s masculinity in and of itself but at least he had had the decency to pick out a black one). And his head of dark, unruly hair was always in the way of Lisa’s foxy little face.

 

It was annoying enough that Dean was clearly not cut out for something that required so much bending, but then there was Blue Eyes with his slender hips and his freaky ability to fold himself into Full One-Legged King Pigeon, and by the end of class Dean had had enough. No more Lotus position, no more aligning shockers. No more stupid gyms. No more Blue Eyes. He would find another way to pursue Lisa.

 

But then it was Wednesday again and Dean found himself stepping into the same gym he swore he’d never return to and retreating to the classroom Lisa taught yoga in. This time taking a spot right up front where no one could sit in front of him.

 

He didn’t even notice Blue Eyes come in. Didn’t hear him settle his mat next to Dean’s or catch sight of him stretching before class started. No, it wasn’t until the Cow, of all positions, that Dean even realized Blue Eyes was there, but there he most definitely was with his perfectly tight ass pushing up into the air. Right. In front. Of Dean’s. Face.

 

Dean quickly learned that yoga was a very inconvenient place to pop a bonar.

 

In the weeks that followed Lisa Braeden faded into the background and yoga became solely about Blue Eyes and all the fascinating ways he could bend, and arch, and dammit, thrust.

 

Every Wednesday afternoon Dean spent an hour in a sweaty gym, with a bunch of people he didn’t know, so he could watch Blue Eyes’ slender hips as they rolled, his toned lean arms as they flexed, his long muscular legs as they stretched. He almost never made it through class anymore without having to excuse himself and beat one off in the men’s showers, but he couldn’t be bothered to give a damn.

 

Two months later and Dean had accepted the fact that he was a downright creep for attending a yoga class simply for the pleasure of staring at some dude’s ass. Sam had tried to point out how pervy Dean came off as but when that dude was flexible as fuck and smirked at Dean every time he caught Dean staring, Dean really didn’t see the big deal.

 

At the end of class one day Dean gathered his things quickly with every intention of ducking into the showers before heading back to work when he felt a hand on his shoulder. Dean turned and found himself staring into bright blue eyes.

 

It was probably the first time Dean had actually looked at the guy’s face while in an upright position and he realized Blue Eyes not only had a rockin’ bod but that his face was basically the equivalent of a Greek god or some kind of bendy, angelic warrior.

 

"You know," Blue Eyes said, "your form could really use some work."

 

Dean’s moth dropped open at the low, gravely rumble that was the man’s voice and the fact that they were talking. Well, Blue Eyes was talking, Dean was gaping.

 

"Uh." Dean responded eloquently.

 

"I offer private lessons on the weekends if your interested."

 

Dean just nodded. Blue Eyes shuffled around in his gym bag coming out with a card, his name and phone number etched in Centry Gothic across the middle. He handed it to Dean and then without another word, the man was gone.   
    
Dean debated on calling but in the end he was too curious not to.

 

That weekend Dean learned that Blue Eyes, or Castiel, really was a yoga instructor at the same gym Lisa taught at, but that the private lessons had only ever been offered to Dean and required little to no clothing.

 

Needless to say after a weekend of athletic, bendy sex with a really hot yoga instructor, who could do the most obscene things with his body, Dean didn’t find gyms so bad after all.


End file.
